


Run, My Love...

by AntiMaterielGirl



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Death, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Love, Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-16
Updated: 2016-01-16
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:32:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5578602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AntiMaterielGirl/pseuds/AntiMaterielGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Struggling with grief, a FLW finally finds peace.<br/>This hugs the line between Mature and Explicit, so I chose conservatively.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run, My Love...

**Author's Note:**

> This one is sad. Read the tags. This is all you're getting - in life, there are no trigger warnings.

_“Run, my love…”_

Those were his last words. At least, the last words that I heard before I frantically sprinted for the nearest cover. We’d stumbled upon a small squad of Enclave soldiers, and he’d thrust me behind him, taking the brunt of their assault. We fought hard, but superior firepower and numbers spelled our end. Or, rather, his.

Mornings are the worst. In the time after sleep and before waking, I can almost feel him lying there behind me. I can almost feel his heavy arm wrapped around me protectively, the warmth of him, his breath in my hair.

Then I wake, and reality descends, a dark cloud enveloping me. He is dead because of me, and now I have nothing to live for. Nothing.

When I went back for him, his body was cold, his weapons, supplies, armor all untouched. They killed him, and they didn’t bother scavenging. Nothing a ghoul owns is worth their time and trouble, even as weak as they are now – it’s soiled, unclean…at least it is to them.

To me, each and every one of his possessions is a treasure.

I don’t know how long I kneeled next to him, clutching him, crying and screaming. I pleaded with God, the Universe, anyone – to take me too. "Please don’t leave me!" I bawled. "I can’t live without you!"

Everyone precious to me has died, protecting me.

The Church of Atom was more than happy to rush over and retrieve him, to prepare him for burial. I gave them the sheet from the bed we shared for his shroud. It is the last thing that touched his tattered skin. The sheets that caressed us as we made love…

* * *

I’m dying inside.

The hollow place inside of me, the place he used to fill, it looms and threatens to crush me under its oppressive weight. I wore those clothes – dirty, smeared with his precious blood – for days. Until one day I looked in the mirror and stripped them off, consumed by grief. I tossed them in a corner, and I cried myself to sleep, lying naked on the floor.

He would be alive, if not for me. If I hadn't been so careless, he'd be here with me now. It's my fault. I deserve this.

For a while, I crawled into the bottle. There was no one to take care of me, no one to look after me – when he died, I pushed them all away. Nova, Moira, even Gob. I slept where I fell – or at least, until Simms nudged me with his boot and told me to go home.

I would trudge home dirty, dusty, empty.

I couldn’t sleep in our bed. There were too many memories, too much pain.

Sometimes, I’d take his pillow and press it to my face, imagining that he’s still alive. I’d imagine that I would go downstairs and find him sitting at the workbench cleaning his shotgun. He’d turn and smile at me, and…

_Oh God…_

_My heart is breaking._  

* * *

_"Run, my love…”_

Those words ring in my ears. He wanted me to save myself, to go on living without him. But when he died, he had my heart. It died with him.

How can I live without a heart?

How can I feel so empty, and yet feel so much pain?

His face haunts me. His eyes half-closed, fighting for life, a trickle of blood running from the corner of his mouth. He gripped my wrist, met my eyes, and with the last of his strength, urged me to leave him, to save myself.

_Why were you taken from me?_

_Why?_  

* * *

We were happy, once.

The day before we left, the day before he died, we lay in bed and talked. I talked about our future – where we should go after we leave this place for good. He told me to enjoy what we have now, not to worry…

He kissed my neck, drew me towards him, pressing our naked bodies together. “I want you,” I gasped.

He gave of himself, eagerly.

I remember the sweet ache of him filling me, the weight of him atop me, how it felt to wrap my legs around him, to draw him in deeper…

I remember wishing that moment could last forever.

But it couldn’t.

He was right. I should have enjoyed it while it lasted. While he lasted. 

* * *

Every day is a living nightmare, but still I manage to eat, to drink, to sleep. I wander the wastes, unable to spend one more second in the home we shared in Megaton. The memories there are stifling. His contract lies folded in my breast pocket. At night, I take it out, clutch it to my chest, and cry myself to sleep. _I love him so much, so much…_

_Oh, my heart…_

* * *

I like to watch the sunrise at Arefu.

Sometimes I sit with Ian – we don’t have to talk. Our losses are almost too much to bear. When I wandered into town, he welcomed me into his home with open arms. We share a grief so deep it’s overwhelming. We’re haunted by his parents, lying dead at his own hand; we're haunted by the only man I’ve ever loved bleeding out in the dust, fighting so that I can live.

* * *

_"Run, my love…”_

More than once Evan has pulled me back from the edge. If I look down, I can almost see Charon waiting for me. Sometimes, I want so desperately to join him that I lean further and further. I laugh at the irony of it all. All the times I could’ve died – Enclave, raiders, super mutants, deathclaws – and I still stood tall, despite the onslaught. I was so strong.

If only my enemies could see me now – instead of a bullet, a blade, or a bite, I’m dying of a broken heart.

I wonder if it will hurt, dying.

I wonder if I will change my mind on the way down.

It takes longer than I thought it would. It’s like the whole world stands still, air rushing by. I close my eyes, throw my arms wide. I can see his face, smiling, my hand on his cheek. I can feel his lips on mine – dry, a little rough, but passionate and familiar.

_Stay my love,_ I think.

_I’m coming._

_I’m co-_

 


End file.
